Now’s not the time for Bush to go soft
In his column last week, Robert Novak talked to a big bunch of Beltway insiders about Donald Rumsfeld’s future, or his lack thereof. Among my colleague’s sources was ‘’one senior official of a coalition partner,'’ who, apropos the Defense secretary, put it this way: ‘’There must be a neck cut, and there is only one neck of choice.'’
Lovely line.
Unknown to the big shot diplomat, ’round about that exact moment halfway across the world, Nick Berg’s captors were cutting his head off – or, to be more precise, feverishly hacking it off while raving ‘’God is great!'’
So Bob Novak’s ‘’senior official'’ – some languid upper-class Brit? a cynical Continental? – usefully reminds us of the difference between the participants in this war. On one side, references to decapitation are purely metaphorical; on the other, they mean it.
One way to measure the softness of a society is to look at how hitherto robust language becomes drained of all literal meaning. Take Novak’s own CNN show ‘’Crossfire,'’ and a testy exchange on the subject from Bob Dole’s 1996 presidential campaign. Contemplating Pat Buchanan’s experience as a TV host, Dole muttered, ‘’I was in the real crossfire. It wasn’t on television. It was over in Italy somewhere, a long time ago.'’
Just so. Back before 9/11, real crossfire was long ago and far away. Not anymore. And that’s the problem: We still have a ‘’Crossfire'’ culture in an age of real crossfire. We have the ersatz warriors, the ham actors of Washington – Senators Kennedy, Levin, Leahy, Harkin and others too fond of seeing their names in print to mention – ‘’calling for Rumsfeld’s head'’ at a time when America’s enemies have already got Nick Berg’s, and they’re swinging it around on camera for the snuff video they’ll be distributing as a recruiting tool.
Steyn, as usual, is spot on.
